Let The Rain Do What It Will
by Deanadelyon
Summary: On that Halloween night, Sirius Black arrived at the home of his best friends, only to find them gone; he found the closest thing to a son he had, only to have him ripped away.  Rated 'T' for safety, because this one kind of hurts. One-shot.


Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, scenarios, and locations are property of J.K. Rowling. I have made no money from writing the following story; I have written it simply for my own enjoyment.

A/N: I was listening to my iPod today while working out, and this idea hit me like a ton of bricks.

Warning: It's sad, it's tragic, it's horribly ironic at the end. You may want tissues handy if you're a crier when it comes to sad stories.

Enjoy and review :)

**.~*~.**

**Let The Rain...**

He smiled when he read the reply from his friend, shook his head and chuckled.

_Padfoot,_

_Of course you can stop by! Just DON'T you dare bring candy._

Here, the handwriting grew considerably messier:

_Okay, Lily's not reading over my shoulder now. You'd better bring candy- it's Halloween, and we have to teach our newest Maurauder these traditions early! Be here sometime tonight. We all look forward to it!_

_~Prongs._

The first thing he noticed when he landed his flying motorcycle in Godric's Hollow was, he couldn't breathe. He didn't know why, but he couldn't breathe at all. It was too quiet here. Why was it so _quiet_?

Something was wrong. Something was so _terribly_ wrong... With a feeling of dread that he couldn't name, with his heart in the pit of his stomach, Sirius Black looked around him, and at the Potters' house.

He stared, not comprehending what he was seeing. A two-story house stood- barely- before him, an upper corner blasted away. This wasn't right; the trip, he'd been unfocused and gone off-path, that was all... this was not the home of two of his best friends, this was _not_ the home of his...

Oh God. No.

Harry.

Sirius didn't know he was moving. He didn't know that he was breathing too fast, that his heart was fighting to keep a functional beating pattern, that his mind was struggling so very hard to stay clear through the panic. He didn't know anything.

Until he saw what had once been James Potter, sprawled across the floor, lifeless as a doll...

And he screamed, collapsing to his knees near his best friend's head, reaching out unconsciously and touching the hair of his _brother_, in every real meaning of the word. No, _no_, _NO!_ He didn't know he screamed the word, over and over, as he pressed his face into the still-warm shoulder of James. If he'd arrived minutes earlier... oh God... No, no, no, no, no...

_Lily_. The thought came to him as though whispered from someone else, and then, even more insistantly, _Harry!_ Sirius stood with the effort of a ninety-year-old man, and turned to the stairs. Looking back at the empty shell that had been James Potter, he let the tears fall, and he forgot what he was about to do; until the voice repeated, as loudly as if someone had shouted in his ear, _LILY AND HARRY!_ Turning with much difficulty, he rushed up the staircase, and stopped breathing when he realized that what had been his godson's nursery was blown apart...

He couldn't stand any longer. Sirius fell, but forced himself to crawl forward; there was no hope, none at all, but he still wanted to see...

A flash of dark red-brown flared across the floor made his stomach lurch. The open eyes, the terrified expression of Lily Potter, told him all he needed to know...

Oh, no, no, _no..._

He lost all strength then, melting into the floor; great, heaving sobs consumed him, and this wasn't real, this _wasn't..._

And then he heard it- a tiny, terrified whimper that startled Sirius out of his daze. But... it was impossible...

Even as his mind screamed at him that he was imagining things, that he would find a tiny, lifeless body in that corner... even though every intellectual, rational characteristic he posessed shouted that he was _wrong_... he told that part of him to shut the hell up, as he dragged himself forward, toward the noise, a sudden and terribly painful hope flaring inside him.

And when he saw the tiny boy, alive, he sobbed in a way he hadn't thought himself capable. Harry. Harry was _alive_...

And bleeding, badly, from the head. But miraculously, _impossibly_ alive.

Sirius lurched forward, removing a hankerchief from an inner pocket of his robes, and lifted the child to him; he held Harry and whispered reassurances through his tears, wiped away most of the blood. He stared at the oddly-shaped scar on the boy's head, but just held him closer, refusing to ponder that right now. Harry was alive. That was more important.

"Sirius," a deep voice broke through the silence, and in a frighteningly swift movement Sirius had stood, shielding Harry even as he drew his wand and pointed it at the intruder. He breathed out- not quite a sigh of relief- when he recognized the abnormally large form of Rubeus Hagrid, looking horrified with great fat tears rolling down his bearded face.

"Hagrid." And Sirius's voice was gravely, choked; he held Harry closer, the heartbeat of the small boy calming him, helping him think. "Hagrid, what are you doing here?"

"Professor Dumbledore wanted me ter come get Harry." Sirius's eyes widened, and he stepped back, holding Harry even tighter, trying very hard not to squeeze him so hard he couldn't breathe.

"I'm his godfather. You can't- no. I won't let you have him, Hagrid, they wanted _me_ to-"

"Dumbledore's orders. I have ter take him-"

"Take him _where_?" Sirius demanded, anger flaring from his gut straight into his throat, his eyes flashing with a rare danger.

"Ter his aunt and uncle's place." Sirius sputtered, unable to speak.

"I'm his bloody _godfather!_" he all but shouted, and Harry squeaked as if agreeing. "He's not going _anywhere_ unless I say he is!" But Hagrid shook his head, and Sirius deflated, his last hope being ripped away...

"Oh God... why...?"

"Dumbledore's orders, Sirius. Ye know Dumbledore... he'll have his reasons..." Sirius shook his head, his flaring rage now a slow-burning, scorching anger that radiated from the pit of his stomach throughout his body.

"Take my bike, Hagrid. Be careful, please." Sirius looked at his godson, and Harry looked back, and Sirius held him close again and kissed the top of his head.

"I'll see you again, Harry."

.~*~.

Sirius lay in his Azkaban cell, a great shaggy dog, once powerful but now incredibly skinny. His nose was tucked under his tail, and his eyes were closed...

But he didn't sleep. He never willingly slept, because every night he dreamt of _that_ night, and it killed him a little every time. Even as a _dog_ he dreamt of that night. He couldn't escape it.

Peter Pettigrew had escaped, and was still alive, he was certain. Where he was, was anybody's guess; Sirius could only pray- often- that he would never, ever find Harry. For all the horror and fear that this place instilled, for all the pain and cold and suffering that this place inflicted, he would stay here forever if it meant that Harry was safe. Even in his darkest hours here, when he'd wanted to bash his head against something and end it all... he still wouldn't trade Harry's safety for his freedom. Never.

Sirius jumped as a _BOOM _sounded off, hideously loud. Thunder. There was a storm outside.

Shifting back to human, Sirius stood stiffly and crossed the cell to the window, outside of which a terrific storm was indeed raging.

Sirius closed his eyes and imagined he could feel the rain as it poured down, imagined he could smell it. He imagined that he was free, and watching the storm from his own house, with Harry nearby in front of a fire, James and Lily laughing with him about something or other, all of them happy and warm and safe...

Sirius couldn't help but smile, just a little; the tiny flare of happiness called to the Dementors, and Sirius quickly shifted back into Padfoot; _they_ could not take _this_ happiness from him. They couldn't have it.

Lying back down in his corner, Sirius thought that wherever Harry was, he hoped he was happy...

.~*~.

Many miles away, a newly-eleven-year-old boy stared in incredulous amazement as a huge, shaggy-haired-and-bearded man handed him a letter and informed him of his past. He grinned in wonder when told he was a wizard.

He didn't know that somewhere far away, in a cold and daunting and truly horrid prison, somebody was thinking of him. He didn't know that someone loved him, hidden across the miles; he didn't know that this someone had made him a promise ten years ago, nor that this promise would indeed be kept.

"_I'll see you again, Harry_."

.~*~.

A/N: Thanks for reading; I hope you enjoyed that. Leave me a review, please! :)


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